Problems of the Gifted

An honestly unlikely talk

(Eric Whitlock pov.)

[October, classroom:]

The room buzzes with the sound of hushed discussions as students settle into their seats, awaiting the start of the lesson.
I lean back in my chair, fingers drumming impatiently on the desk. My eyes wander to the clock on the wall, counting down the seconds until the bell would ring.

Sometimes I wonder if this is actually worth my time. Actually, I'm sure it isn't. There's just no way my future will be the same as any others students of AGI. Gosh, I wish this was true.

As our teacher, Ms. Fellis, begins her lecture I don't bother to listen. Someone will give me their notes anyway.
Ms. Fellis had brown skin and darker hair, as well as a piercing gaze that makes students freeze on the spot.

That's what some students say.

So when she sends one of those glances in my direction, George shoves me a bit with his elbow, to make me pay attention, but I just gives him a look that says: Let me be, alright?
George isn't a bad friend, but definitely always the goody two shoes.
Suddenly, my ears perk up when I hear my name being called.

"Mr. Whitlock, are you even paying attention?" Mrs. Fellis' stern voice cuts through the classroom.

I look up to see her second weapon, the disapproving gaze.

"Uh, yeah. Of course."

"Then perhaps you could tell the class your thoughts on the topic we've been discussing," she challenges, her tone dripping with skepticism.

I narrow my eyes slightly. Being caught off-guard is annoying.

"Look, I know what we're talking about. I just don't see why it's relevant."

A murmur and a lot of surprised glances erupt through the room.
George gives a worried look, I ignore it.

Ms. Fellis' expression hardens:
"The relevance of the topic, Mr. Whitlock, is for you to understand the concepts necessary for your future."

My jaw tightens and I can feel my temper rising:
"Well, maybe you should make it more engaging if you want people to pay attention."

The room falls silent, all eyes on the brewing confrontation.

Well crap. This means I need to prepare myself for an argumentation with the worst teacher possible.

"Oh snap." Elara mutters.

Ms Fellis' patience wavers:
"I assure you, Mr. Whitlock, the material is quite engaging if you bother to apply yourself."

Alright, that is it.

When I push my chair back abruptly, the screech of the legs against the floor echos through the room.

I'm not in the mood for any argumentation.

"You know what? I don't have to listen to this."

With that, I stride to the front of the classroom, head held high.
Ms. Fellis' voice follows, yet I paid her no mind.
The door slams shut behind me as I storm out, leaving behind a stunned class and a bewildered teacher.
I go down the corridor of the building.

Who do they think they are? All of this is a waste of time and a waste of opportunities.
Apply yourself.
That's all I hear.

I sit down the stairs at the end of the hallway and rub the back of my head.

Stupid subjects, stupid teachers, stupid academy-

"What's up?" A familiar voice says.
My head snaps to look at the person.
Zain sits on the lower steps, looking at me unbothered, headphones in as always.

The Volkov junior?
Seriously, of all the people...

"What are YOU doing here?" I question, not as confident as I'd like it to be.

"Skipping class, obviously. You too?"

"No. Maybe. *sigh* Ms. Fellis got mad that I didn't pay attention in class. And I may or may not have told her that her class sucks."

She looks surprised for a moment, but in the next she laughs:
"Haha, finally someone said something."

I don't think I've ever seen her laugh before.

"Yeah, despite that, I'll be in trouble." I admit, looking away from her.

We both say nothing for a moment.

Then she asks, with disinterested expression:
"So... you want to tell me why-"

"Yes! It's this school-"

"Academy."

"Academy. I don't need all of this. I'm just wasting my time here. I wasn't convinced to go here in the first place, but my parents said I should.
Samir and George have already gotten used to everything here, but George's family is rather poor so I guess that makes sense-"

She raises an eyebrow at me.

"What I mean is that I can't get used to this. If I didn't have an ability, I wouldn't have to do all of this.
As soon as they find out you're a Gifted, your life's over.
Not sure why, but it seems to me everyone ignores the fact that most of us will have to become agents for AGI.
Abilities don't make us better, they just make problems. I just want to-"

"Live a normal life." We say together.

I look at her.

"Yeah, you're not the only one.
We have to be the best version of ourselves here and out there, sure. And that's annoying. We are supposed to be glad we have the opportunity.
Though I guess we don't have much of a choice anyway."

She looks at her shoes.
We stay quiet for another moment.

"Zain..." I sigh, breaking the silence "The thing you said last week. That others are only interested in me because I'm- my parents are rich-"

"You're actually still thinking about that?"

"I- eh. No. I'm not."

Why did I ask? Zain wouldn't care if I suddenly turned into a potted plant which, by the way, I can't do.
My ability only allows me to shape shift into other people, not objects or animals.

Either way, she then stands up:
"Listen, I didn't mean to make this personal, but it is what it is.
That bet you made with Aiden? It's stupid. Who cares how many people adore or think about you?", she shakes her head "What matters is that you have people who actually care by your side. Like Samir and George."

"Do you care?"

What was that, you idiot? I did not just ask her that. Come on, you're above all that!

She shrugs:
"I guess I do."

She wants to walk away, but I hold her off and stand up:
"Wait!"

She turns around, waiting for me to continue.

I clear my throat:
"Ehm... would you care to join me, George and Samir... at the table? I know you'd rather sit alone-"

"It's alright. I'll come."

No way.

"Really?"

"Yeah. George said that you'll ask sooner or later."

"Oh, did he now?"

I am going to kill him after all.

"So, I guess I'll see you at dinner?" I ask.

She nods:
"Sure."

I'm standing there, still confused, while she turns the corner, leaving me to myself. I wonder why she had to take off so suddenly.

Then I hear Ms. Fellis voice coming up behind me:
"Mr. Whitlock, you're in trouble!"

Zain knew this would happen, didn't she?